


Amor Vincit Omnia

by Calamity_Hero_Awakens



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Bittersweet, Boys Kissing, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Growing Old, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Married Couple, Old Age, Post-Canon, Romance, Sunsets, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calamity_Hero_Awakens/pseuds/Calamity_Hero_Awakens
Summary: A lot had changed in the fifty years they had spent in the sky together. A glance at their hands was a physical reminder of that, Link's blue eyes perceived as they gazed upon the sight of his pale, wrinkled skin beneath the firm, soft skin of Ghirahim's. While age had taken its toll on him - as he would expect at his nearly seventy years of age - Ghirahim remained the same.
Relationships: Ghirahim/Link (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Amor Vincit Omnia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SquigglyAverageJoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquigglyAverageJoe/gifts).



Though there was really no horizon line to speak of, the sun was edging closer and closer to that nonexistent line, disappearing below the clouds and casting countless shades of orange and pink across the sky. The darkness followed it, slowly but surely, bringing the chill of the night. A gentle breeze blew the painted clouds across the sky at a leisure pace, the wind making a low whistle as it swept through the empty town. Miles above the Surface, away from the rest of the world's inhabitants, a display of nature unlike any other the hero had known was on display. At his place atop the Goddess statue's clasped hands, he was sure there was no better place to be.

Being so far from his friends from an age long past, it was a wonder Link didn't feel the loneliness that they had assured him would set in. Instead, as he watched the hues of blue and black fill the sky and the clouds dissipate, he could only feel the comfort of a mind at ease and the chilling air as it nipped at his skin. The town below was completely empty, the hero finding himself the only Hylian remaining. All of the people he had come to know and befriend had moved to the Surface long ago, many marvelling at his decision to stay in Skyloft. Sometimes he wondered himself why he hadn't chosen to live his life with the rest of them miles below but when he found himself in moments like these, perched atop the Goddess statue with a perfect view of the sunset as it painted the empty town in glorious shades of warmth, he couldn't come to regret his decision.

The warmth of the fading sun was matched only by the soothing warmth of a hand around his own. After all these years, he had grown to love the familiar feeling of the hands that were near constantly touching him, a warm palm holding his hand while cool fingertips ghosted over his cheek, turning his face away from the captivating sight of the setting sun. Out of the corner of his eye, the Hylian spotted their hands and his attention was immediately diverted to them, the familiar sight bringing a mix of comfort and repose.

A lot had changed in the fifty years they had spent in the sky together. A glance at their hands was a physical reminder of that, Link's blue eyes perceived as they gazed upon the sight of his pale, wrinkled skin beneath the firm, soft skin of Ghirahim's. While age had taken its toll on him - as he would expect at his nearly seventy years of age - Ghirahim remained physically untouched. The cold fingertips, the white hair, the gaudy makeup, the smooth, perfect skin, the snarky attitude; it was all still very much Ghirahim.

Seeing the hero age had come as a shocking surprise to the demon lord, though he hadn't been sure why. He had known long before it had begun that the hero - just as every other Hylian - would continue to age until his last moment; he simply hadn't anticipated the rate at which such change would occur. A decade passed and the demon marvelled at the changes that had taken place, most being physical, as Link was still very much a child at heart. Such a demeanor had made it difficult for Ghirahim to notice much change in the following decade together, but as the wrinkles began to show and Link's performance in swordsmanship began to slow, the demon couldn't deny what was happening. As much as he resented it, Ghirahim was forced to accept that Link was growing old.

The hand atop Link's was gentle as it moved, the demon lord's fingers shifting to sink between each of his so that their fingers were laced together. Ghirahim recalled a younger day when he had performed the action and Link had held their hands up, staring at their outstretched fingers with shimmering eyes full of wonder before saying, "It looks like I have ten fingers on one hand."

The demon had simply laughed, squeezing the hand beneath his and placing a peck of a kiss to Link's cheek, a smile appearing on his face as he mumbled, "Ridiculum puer."

A soft smile graced Ghirahim's lips at the memory and a quick glance to his partner's face proved that he adorned a similar expression. So much had changed during their time together and at times it felt as if time was creeping up on them, waiting for them to make one wrong move so that it could strike. More than once, the demon had held a sobbing hero, listening to his cries of anguish and fear, his tearful chants expressing his fear of death and the unknown, of leaving Ghirahim behind.

The demon lord would be lying if he said he hadn't been reduced to a similar state himself over that very topic.

The gentle touches were always grounding for them both, especially in the more relaxing moments, such as when they were bathed in the evening glow of the sun. Even when the night steadily crept upon them, bringing the coldness and the darkness along with it, the warmth from their touches was enough to keep them in the present, distracting their minds from the thoughts that sought them out under the cover of darkness.

Cool fingertips were brushing against Link's cheek once more and this time he wouldn't allow himself to be distracted by their entwined fingers, not when those wonderful fingers were slipping under his chin and pulling his face slowly closer, Ghirahim's head dipping down just enough so that they could be face to face. Warm breath was shared in the small space between them, a glorious feeling to countervail the chill of the air that enveloped them as the last traces of gold slipped from the edge of the island and into the seeming abyss below.

The initial contact of their lips was cold, the gentle press making a shiver creep down Link's spine, but the warmth of their breaths between kisses was enough to keep them from noticing the cold that had attempted to invade their space.

It was at times like this that Ghirahim found himself grateful for the past. His mind was blissfully empty and chaotically scattered all at once to a nearly overwhelming degree; while the precious warmth and smooth press of their lips and occasional nips and licks were enough to keep his mind empty, it often bounced back and forth between the mindfulness of the moment and the thoughts that crowded his brain.

The demon thought of their first battle in Skyview Temple, the way Link had practically sweated through his tunic in the Fire Sanctuary, the look of determination set on his face when they had faced off for the final time. He thought of how he had returned to the hero after he had been given enough time to heal, though the deep, oddly shaped scar on his chest would forever be a reminder of what he had endured, of the path he had chosen (though one could argue that he had been forced into his decision). He thought of how Link had looked the first time they had kissed, the first time they had made love, the way his face lit up at the prospect of a home cooked meal, and the sadness that was etched into his face whenever he visited the Master Sword.

The Hylian's blue eyes were watching him as they parted, the familiarity and complete adoration still sparkling in those eyes even after all this time. Ghirahim could only force himself to look away when the choice was made for him, Link's eyes closing and their cold foreheads pressing together, their noses bumping gently and eliciting a quiet, mumbled laugh from the hero's throat.

Cold fingertips crept up Link's neck before warm palms were cradling his cheeks, Ghirahim's breath warming his face as his heart pounded. No matter how many times they had been intimate, even the simplest of touches was still enough to set his heart racing.

Wrinkled and calloused hands rose to cradle Ghirahim's face, breathing warmth into the cold skin beneath Link's palms. With their faces so close and eyes closed, the comfort of each other's touch embracing them, it was easy to find the courage to say for the umpteenth time what had been so difficult to say when they had met in battle so long ago, fear and anger propelling them against each other with blades drawn.

"I love you."


End file.
